


The Past; In Censors

by DreamerOfStarsAndShadow



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Adopted Children, Dark Past, F/M, Graphic Description, Murder, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamerOfStarsAndShadow/pseuds/DreamerOfStarsAndShadow
Summary: Ten years ago, to the shock of the world, Seto Kaiba adopted an infant with no apparent history or relation. Still a bachelor, the rumors surrounding Kaiba's choice still run rampant. Within the family, however, little Tatsu's questions about her past have just begun. As host of the elementary school's duel club, the only glimpses you get into the family's dark past are from the media, and Tatsu's ever increasing temper tantrums.





	1. Graphic Content Warning

“Tastu,” Kaiba barked, rising from his desk to put the full force of his impending command on the ten year-old playing by the door. “Grab your bag. It’s time for school.” A remarkably Kaiba-esque mask of contempt slid onto the girl’s face. Her action figures stilled. “Now.” Tatsu rolled her eyes, dramatically dropped the toys, and trudged out of the study.

Kaiba tossed his laptop and some papers into a metal briefcase, slid his studded white trench coat on, and followed his daughter out. They met at the base of the mansion’s front steps where a white sports car waited, keys already in the ignition. Kaiba slid into the driver’s seat and tossed his briefcase beside him. Tatsu climbed in the back and crossed her arms, squishing her Baby Dragon backpack between herself and the seat. Kaiba eyed her through the rear-view mirror.

“Seatbelt.”

Tatsu yanked the buckle across her lap and shoved it into the lock. Kaiba turned the key in the ignition. The engine hummed to life, and he drove down the driveway onto Domino City’s streets.

He parked in front of Domino’s smallest public elementary school and waited. Tatsu did not budge.

“You’re going to be late,” Kaiba growled, failing to hide his impatience. Again, Tatsu did not move. Turning back and reaching across her lap, Kaiba popped her door open. She scooted as far away from it as her seatbelt would allow. Her father pinned her with a firm stare. “What’s wrong?”

Tatsu blinked at her brown loafers. “I don’t want to go.”

“You have to.”

She glanced up. “Are you going to pick me up?”

“I have to work late today.”

“Okay…” She still did not move. Kaiba ran a hand over his face and let out a slow breath.

“Do you have your homework?”

Tatsu nodded. “For the whole week.”

“No one is giving you trouble?”

She shook her head.

“Then why are you being obstinate?”

“I’m not,” Tatsu muttered. Kaiba narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring.

“Why won’t you go?” he asked slowly. Tatsu’s eyes shifted to stare out the window.

“Why don’t I have a mom?”

“I’ve answered that,” he snapped.

“Yeah, but-”

“Get out and you’ll get an ice cream float tonight.” It stung to stoop to bribery after years of managing without, but this car trip had been full of old stings by now. At that moment, all Kaiba cared about was that it worked. Tatsu, her expression turned slightly sour, crawled from the car and stamped towards the building, her backpack staring at Kaiba with its irritating smirk as it bounced. Climbing out to slam the back door shut, Kaiba glanced at the sky and spat, “You owe me in hell.” A half-wilted cherry blossom floated past his nose. He recoiled, retreated back into the car, and sped away. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Ɣ

Late that night, Kaiba arrived home to a single maid. Everyone else had retired, including Tatsu, despite the crumpled blanket on the small faux-fur sofa just off the foyer.

“Mr. Kaiba, would you like anything to eat?” the maid asked, helping him shrug off his billowing coat.

“No.” He would be going almost immediately to bed. There was one stop first.

Kaiba cracked open Tatsu’s door and peered inside. One bedside lamp was on, casting a yellow wash of light over a clump of blanket. Kaiba strode over and gently lifted the open laptop by Tatsu’s head off the bed. He slid a finger across the touch pad. The screen lit up and he froze. Staring at back at him was a ghost.

The woman in the image that dominated the decade old news article grinned at the camera, one hand holding her windswept brown hair out of her face. Her green eyes twinkled with mischief. The edge of a white coat billowed at the corner of the picture.

Kaiba scrolled through the article. There were no other images, but the horror it described was in great detail. He checked the browser history. It had logged more than a dozen articles on the same incident. He clicked on the next one down. A graphic content warning loaded ahead of the article. His grip on the laptop tightened. After accepting it, the page redirected.

Kaiba sunk against the wall. The photograph at the top of the article was one he had hoped Tatsu would never see. It captured a body, nailed to a warehouse wall by the hands. Egyptian hieroglyphs drawn in blood framed it and more blood pooled on the floor beneath. Kaiba’s eyes fixed on the stylized eye tattooed on the victim’s lower back— _her_ lower back. He glanced at the caption. The picture had been miscredited. This one was taken by a Domino reporter that had snuck onto the scene. It wasn’t in as sharp focus as the police department’s image, and had a slight yellow cast to it.

With measured breaths, Kaiba closed the laptop and turned off the lamp. Silently he left the room, taking the laptop with him. He would be putting censors on it before going to bed.


	2. You, A Teacher

The end of the school day had come. You waited for your classroom to clear of young children, then reached into your desk and pulled out the folder of signed permission slips for the after school duel club. There weren’t many. Most parents who allowed their young children to duel either did so with great restriction, or were paying for private groups and lessons. There were enough, however. You counted half a dozen as you cross checked the slips with your roster. Quickly, you checked your watch. Five minutes to fetch your materials and get down to the cafeteria. You grabbed your bag, slid the papers inside, and proceeded down the hall at a quick march. In one of the supply closets you picked up the starter decks and pair of children’s duel disks you had invested in. The school had not been so generous as to cover these costs. They didn’t yet value the increasing sway of the Duel Monsters sport—it had become far more than a game years ago—in society. Either that, or they did not value an amateur school teacher as a duel instructor.

You reached the cafeteria along with the first student, a boy named Senji. He plopped down at one of the tables and started sorting through his worn deck, likely a jumble of hand-me-downs and garbage finds. His enthusiasm made you grin.

The other children and your volunteer aide arrived while you pulled the wood podium out of a corner, dusted it off, and set up on it, placing out the roster, decks, and then storing the duel disks in the space underneath. You checked your watch again. Start time.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” you chirped. Most of the children replied, some soft and nervous, others too excited to sit still on the bench. You introduced yourself and started roll call. Every name was accounted for. “Did I miss anyone?” Senji raised his hand. You cocked your head, careful not to frown. “You’re on the list, Mr. Senji.” He shook his head.

“Not me, ma’am.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and failed to whisper. “You didn’t call Kaiba.”

Now you did frown. Your eyes snapped across the room until they found the child in question, huddled in a dark corner on the other side of the room and just radiating nasty. You donned your most inviting smile and clasped your hands behind the podium. “Kaiba Tatsu?” The girl met your gaze. Her blue-green eyes were watering, even as she was tensing for a tantrum. “I don’t have a permission slip for you.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, then reached into her backpack, pulled out a crumpled paper, and walked it over to you. Smoothing it out, you checked the signature. It was wobbly, blocky, like a child trying to mimic a work of art. Your chest tightened. “Miss Kaiba, did your father sign this?” you asked softly. She glared at the wall.

“Yes.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “Please come with me, Miss Kaiba.” You motioned for your aide to take over.

“Why?” Kaiba asked, balling her fists.

“I have to call your father. Please come with me.”

Kaiba glared up at you. “No! My dad’s busy!”

The spoiled child alarms already buzzing in the back of your mind went off in a fanfare. “Miss Kaiba, come with me.” She glared at you for another few moments, and then stomped for the hallway. You strode after her, needing to make sure she didn’t disappear. Thankfully she went right to the main office.

The office secretary was already pulling out Kaiba’s emergency contact information when you arrived at the desk. “What’s the problem this time?” he asked, beginning to dial a number. You glanced at Kaiba. She had climbed into a chair in the waiting area and sat her big-eyed yellow backpack on her lap.

“I need to check if a legal guardian signed the Duel Club permission slip.”

While you spoke, the phone rang. The secretary glanced at the number. “Your answer’s probably no,” he muttered, picking up the phone. You allowed yourself a frown, but waited. When the secretary hung up, he let out a sigh of relief. “Kaiba,” he called. Kaiba tilted her head, refused to look at him. “Casey’s coming to pick you up.” Kaiba rolled her eyes. The secretary passed you a breath mint. “Better wait here. She wants to meet you.”

You frowned, popped the mint in your mouth, and found yourself a seat. You didn’t know the name Casey, but she must be a Kaiba Corp employee, or an employee of the Kaiba family itself. Your skin prickled with the prospect. Why did she want to talk to you? Were you in trouble? Did she want to vet you? Your mind spiraled through possibilities. You half jumped out of your seat the first few times someone entered the office. None of them were this mysterious Casey, so you grabbed hold of your nerves and forced them steady.

Ten minutes into your wait, and you hardly noticed the dark plum-haired woman that had entered the office and bent down in front of Kaiba’s seat. She whispered softly with the girl, and then took the backpack and turned to you. Scrabbling out of your seat with all the grace of a startled rabbit, you rattled off a quick introduction.

“Rozali Casey,” she supplied. Her name prompted you to notice her somewhat European features. She couldn’t be more than thirty, and her casual smile seemed effortless, perhaps even genuine. She was dressed business casual, in a white blouse and grey slacks. Kaiba clung lightly to her side, though she still looked upset. “I understand you’re running the duel club?”

You nodded. “I have a volunteer aide from the High School to help guide the students.”

“Do you duel?”

Your nerves flared again. You cursed your irrationality. “Yes, although my skill wouldn’t be considered tournament worthy.”

Casey shrugged. “Neither is mine. Let’s just not tell Kaiba,” she added, laughing. It took a moment for your mind to key in the fact that she was talking about the Kaiba Corp CEO and not the girl pulling her backpack out of Casey’s grip. “What are you after?” Casey asked, opening the backpack.

“Deck.”

“Can you say that in a full sentence?” Casey asked.

“I want my deck.” Kaiba didn’t even pout. You would almost call it a miracle. She pulled out a leather box with KC emblazoned on the front. She popped it open as she walked out of the office. Casey set her hand on her hip.

“Tatsu, where are you going?”

Kaiba popped her head back inside. “Duel Club. Cafeteria.”

“Would you wait for us?”

Rolling her eyes, Kaiba leaned against the door frame and searched through her cards. Casey looked back at you and motioned towards the door.

“Lead the way.”

“This way,” you said.

In the cafeteria, your aide seemed to have things under control. Two of the students were already paired up in a duel at a second table, and he was demonstrating the basic rules to the other four. Kaiba sauntered over to the duel and crouched at the end of the table.

“Do you plan on using duel disks?” Casey asked, watching Kaiba.

“I have a pair we’ll be using once everyone has a grasp of the game.”

Casey ran her finger over the Bluetooth device in her ear. “They’ll be shared among the students, then?” You nodded. “Do you plan on attending competitions?”

“Oh, I hadn’t even considered it. Probably not. We’re only here for fun, and the school would probably fees charges onto the parents.”

“I’m sure you could secure a Kaiba Corp sponsorship.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know about that. Like I said, we’re just here for fun, and I can’t say Itoh,” you motioned at your aide, “or I know enough to prepare the kids for a competition.”

Casey shrugged, again running her finger over her earpiece. “Alright then. As long as Tatsu’s attending, you’re all but guaranteed acceptance. Just so you know.”

That was true. You mulled over the connotations of having a Kaiba in the club. It could be greatly advantageous if you ever wanted to expand. “Thank you.”

“Well, I should probably get back to work.” Casey held out a business card. “Do you have a blank copy of the permission slip? I can have it signed and back to you by the time your club lets out.”

“Signed by a parent or legal guardian?”

She frowned. “Of course.”

You pulled an extra form from your bag and handed it to Casey.

“Alright, thanks. Go ahead and call me if something happens.” A buzz started in her pocket. She pressed a button on her earpiece and started for the exit. “Caito? Shouldn’t you be in class…”

Once she was gone, you felt a noticeable weight lift off your shoulders. You looked at the card she had handed you.

_Rozali Casey, Public Information Officer, KC_

Not a secretary or personal assistant. At least not by title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a philosophical. Because memes. There's a chance Casey might end up appearing in this story more often than Seto. Time will tell. Many apologies if that is the case.
> 
> I have very little knowledge of Japanese culture, and none when it comes to their school system, so I'll be drawing on my American experiences. I apologize profusely. I'll try to make up for it with good story?
> 
> I'm always seeking to improve, so any and all feedback is welcome.


	3. Odds Are

Unfortunately, Duel Club faced the same hurdle as every other elementary school program in existence; it only met once a week. What was worse, you had decided it best not to send the children home with cards you had provided in case they lost or destroyed them, or simply lost interest in the game. It felt cruel, removing many of the children’s abilities to explore or enjoy the game between meetings, but you just couldn’t fathom being able to keep the club running if you constantly had to buy new decks. For the hundredth time that week you glanced at the Kaiba Corp sponsorship application guide Casey had printed for you.

You checked the clock. Ten minutes left before your students returned from recess. Sinking behind your desk, you set out the papers.

The front page was a simple advertisement—flashy graphics, grandiose statements, an immense sum of yen followed by an asterisk. You had already read the whole thing through twice before, so you knew the gist. Any group hosted by a public school had to have at least ten regular participants, one Kaiba Corp certified instructor, and had to join one of Kaiba Corp’s Duel Leagues, as determined by age group. As an elementary aged team—Kaiba Corp would consider them a competitive team rather than a club—you would be required to attend at least one regional tournament a year. In return, the company would supply one starter deck per student, at least four duel disks, and one complete rulebook per student including the most common variations. They would also waive entry fees for any tournament within the Duel League. However, the company would get a percentage of the team’s tournament winnings no matter the host, with the exception of the one required tournament, which the company would keep all proceeds from.

You sighed. The program was exclusively for competing teams, and you weren’t sure you wanted to put that kind of pressure on the students. The Kaiba Corp certification was also daunting. There was no age, experience, or job requirement. One just had to demonstrate sufficient Duel Monsters knowledge and skill on first a written, then a practical test. You and Itoh were both amateurs. Furthermore, there was the simple problem of numbers. You had seven students, and that was just to start with. At least one was bound to drop out, and in your experience numbers never increased over the school year.

You stowed the papers and got up to collect your students. Perhaps, if Kaiba Tatsu stayed in the club… It didn’t seem right to use a child for their connections, but it would be for the benefit of the entire club. You flexed your fingers at your side. There would have to be some waiting before you made a decision.

Ɣ

To your dismay, the club had already lost one member by the second week. It wasn’t Kaiba, which was somewhat of a comfort. You did your best to hide your disappointment during roll call.

“Alright everyone, ready to get dueling?”

The students nodded eagerly. Except Tatsu. She was transfixed by some card in her deck.

“Last week we learned the basic rules,” you continued, “so this week we’re going to duel with them. Raise your hand if you don’t have a deck.” Three hands popped into the air. Itoh jumped forward to distribute the starter decks. He had already gotten an idea of who might be interested in what cards last week, so he had it done with just a few questions. “Alright. I’m going to assign everybody an opponent. Experienced duelists, no cheating.” It was nice to have a fifty-fifty split of kids who knew how to play and beginners. You could use the former as additional tutors, at least for now.

You and Itoh floated between the three duels, ready to answer questions, offer suggestions, and catch Senji cheating. He had tried to pull a few tricks, including telling his opponent that he didn’t have to tribute monsters in his field if he was setting a high level monster in face-down defense position, and trying to use a quick-play spell from his hand during his opponent’s turn. You eventually had to pull him aside to confirm that he did know he was cheating.

“If you won’t play by the rules, you won’t play at all,” you warned a little more gently than appropriate. You liked Senji. He was smart and knew it, but _usually_ didn’t try to take advantage of his classmates.

Senji looked away, nodded, and promised he wouldn’t cheat anymore. You sent him back to his duel.

During your conversation, Itoh had planted himself behind Kaiba, frowning. He reached for her deck.

“No!” she screamed, slamming her hands down on the stack. Everyone’s attention snapped to her. “Mine!”

“S-sorry,” Itoh stammered, casting a nervous glance at you. “I just wanted a look.”

“They’re mine, you can’t touch them.”

You hurried over to Itoh’s rescue. For all his love of children, it was apparent he had no clue how to handle angry ones. “Miss Kaiba, we don’t scream at people. Mr. Itoh just wanted to see your cards. It’s important to be polite, even when we’re telling someone ‘no’. What’s a polite way to tell Mr. Itoh that he can’t see your deck?” Kaiba scowled and summoned a monster to her field. “You should say ‘No, Mr. Itoh, you cannot see my deck’. Tell Mr. Itoh that, Miss Kaiba.”

She kept silent. Itoh shifted his weight, playing with the flap over his pants pocket. He opened his mouth, and then bit his tongue. You waited another moment before bending down beside Kaiba.

“No, you can’t see my deck,” she muttered hurriedly.

“I’ll be sure to ask first next time,” Itoh replied, absolutely oozing apology. You shot him a glare and stood back up. Children ought to learn to respect their elders first, and learn to ask questions later. You checked the paper where the children had been keeping track of their life points. Kaiba was far ahead.

The clop of hard boot heels echoed through the hallway outside the cafeteria. It was probably another teacher, on the phone based off the bits of heated half-conversation you could hear. Except teachers didn’t usually give orders, or wear boots on a warm sunny day. You turned, and the sound met image as Casey walked through the doors and towards Kaiba.

“Tatsu, pack up your things, the brute squad’s going to be here to pick you up in a minute.” Kaiba seemed to ignore her.

“Is something wrong?” you asked.

“I can’t say anything at this… time…” Casey trailed off, frowning at Kaiba’s duel field. She bent closer, inspecting a monster. “Tatsu, where did you get these cards?”

Kaiba’s grip on her hand tightened. “They’re mine.”

“Tatsu, the whole mansion’s up in- Finish your duel.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose and pressed a button on her Bluetooth earpiece. In the moment of ensuing silence, Itoh sidled up to you. Hoping he would take it as a hint to distract the other students from this situation, you indicated them with one hand. “Casey here. The property’s been found… Yes.” Another moment of silence. Itoh blinked at you, then his eyes lit up with understanding and he sauntered over to the other table. “Yes, Mr. Kaiba… I don’t know, sir, I didn’t ask… Are you sure? I can- …Of course.” With a slow breath, she turned to you. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Mr. Seto Kaiba will be here in a few minutes.”

Your chest tightened. There had been no doubt that the famed CEO of Kaiba Corp would show up at some point, with his daughter attending, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be for a very long time. “Is there anything in particular I need to be aware of?”

“No, no,” Casey replied, the pity so heavy in her eyes you wondered how she could bear to look at you.

“Duel disk?” Kaiba asked, hardly looking away from her duel. Your stomach turned.

“What do you mean, Miss Kaiba?”

Casey waved Kaiba back to the game. “Do you have a duel disk with you?”

“Yes…”

“I’d suggest getting it out.”

Now you were sweating. Seto Kaiba wasn’t just a pro duelist, he was a master. Like a slap in the face you realized you didn’t even want him to see you duel. To actually duel him yourself was the thought of nightmares. “I’m not sure it would be appropriate…” You trailed off. Ignoring all propriety and respect, Casey had set her hand on your shoulder. _Definitely western_ , you thought, holding yourself to a subtle frown. Hardly apologetic, she removed her hand.

“You’ll be much better off using your own duel disk than one of the new Kaiba Corp prototypes.”

“All the new ones kind of hurt,” Kaiba said, nearly grinning into her cards.

With a deep breath, you asked, “Mr. Kaiba will be expecting to duel, then?”

“Duh.”

Casey waved Kaiba off again. “I’m sorry, it didn’t occur to me that it would need mentioning.”

Once again, you kept your frustration and nerves at bay. “I understand.” You retrieved your personal duel disk—an older model preceding the first Duel Academy releases—from your bag, made sure it was working, and placed it on top of your podium. There was no need to put it on until Mr. Kaiba himself requested a duel.

Resigned to the wait, and determined not to think of all the consequences this day implied, you busied yourself with the now very excited students.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I thought I would finally be responsible about updates, but life sure got in the way. Chapter 4 is already partially written (and we finally get to see Seto Kaiba!), but unfortunately this will always have to take a backseat to work.
> 
> All feedback is eagerly welcome, I know I have a lot to learn.


End file.
